vocal weapon

everyone has word vomit and this is a case of that

This gun is stuck on automatic,

A continuous stream of bullets,

that constantly cause internal panic.

No need to reload, the ammo is endless,

A constant bombardment of words,

one hits and hurts.

 

 

A non-intentional emotion wound,

One that takes months to heal.

Leaving razor blade marks,

To indicate internal dark.

 

 

A shotgun wound  in the stomach

But no one can see,

Red lines hidden from everybody.

Mind’s to well bullet proofed,

nothing more let through

to much strength in life’s attack.

 

 

Mind just closes the drawbridge.

locks up the castle.

No more emotions to advance and get shot down

To well defended to be conquered by anymore attacks.

 

 

Minds to well bullet proofed,

Hearts to battle hardened.

It’s been in to many wars and not always won,

Scars from pervious encounters still showing.

But now it’s been at this for too long, 

To used to the pain of loss and the joy of victory.

Reviews

[Shonte']

I especially like the message conveyed here: Our words pack power. And I truly enjoyed reading it. I don't see a problem with the poem or the way it is written; however, if you just wanted to, you could cut some of the adjectives to make it more compact. For instance:

This gun is stuck on automatic
firing a stream of bullets
that cause eternal panic
no need to reload--the ammo is endless
a constant bombardment of words
one hits and hurts
*

just a thought...